


right now our future's certain (i won't let it fade away)

by rebelkbex (reyanehokkain)



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Discussion of Injury, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, background Randal Grichuk/Stephen Piscotty/Tommy Pham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 00:46:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10547158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reyanehokkain/pseuds/rebelkbex
Summary: A coda to tonight’s (4.4.17) game with the Chicago Cubs after Piscotty took one to the head.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [junes_discotheque](https://archiveofourown.org/users/junes_discotheque/gifts).



> I wrote this as a form of emotional abuse for my dear friend, junes-discotheque, on tumblr, cause I am an A+ person.

Stephen’s already halfway to sleep when Randal crawls up into bed next to him. It’s been a long night for both of them, with Randal trying to pay attention to the game after Stephen was ushered off to the hospital for an MRI. But luckily, it’s no more than a minor concussion that comes with a major headache, for which they have painkillers aplenty to deal with, as the pair of them are complete klutzes on a good day.

“Hey babe,” Randal says, his hand finding its way onto Stephen’s back. “You still awake?”

“Maybe.” Randal chuckles and presses a kiss to Stephen’s head, careful to avoid the bump where his helmet made contact with his head.

“You know, I’m going to have to put you in bubble wrap if you keep getting hurt.” Stephen giggles and shuffles back into Randal.

“That’s going to make it very hard for me to play you know.” The hand on his back wraps around his waist and pulls him even closer to Randal, making it hard to know where one ends and the other begins.

“Stephen,” Randal’s voice is heavier now and Stephen knows that this talk is about to get serious. “That’s the second time I’ve seen you go down on the field. And truthfully, I’m not sure that I’ve recovered from the first still.”

They don’t talk about the collision often, mostly because Randal and Pham get this weird look on their face whenever someone brings it up and Stephen rarely wants to discuss one of the scariest moments in his life. But tonight has been a very sudden reminder that it happened and they both know that they need to talk.

“Randal,” Stephen says, as he tries to turn in Randal’s grip. “I’m fine, ok? I was fine that time and I’m fine now.” Randal grips a bit tighter and Stephen knows that he’s going to have a bruise in the morning.

“You were not fine last time.” Randal’s voice is a growl. “You blacked the fuck out last time, Piscotty. There was blood.”

“Randal,” Stephen starts, finally managing to face his partner and seeing the lost look in his eye. “What is this really about?”

“I’m just… I’m scared, ok?” Randal drops his head into Stephen’s hair and takes a deep, sobering breath. “You hear about those hockey and football players who lose their goddamn minds from concussions and I don’t want that to be you. I don’t want to lose you to something that is so fucking avoidable.”

Stephen doesn’t say anything after that, because there’s nothing he can say. He can’t guarantee that he won’t get hit again in future games, or that the hits he’s taken thus far won’t come back to bite him in the ass someday. Randal’s fear is real, almost too real for Stephen to deal with, so he buries himself even deeper into Randal’s hold and let’s Randal cry his stress out into his hair. 

They don’t say anything else that night, they just hold each other and try to sleep as best they can. The pain meds take the edge off of Stephen’s headache to give him a few hours, but Randal stays up for most of the night, watching Stephen sleep. They’ve got a Skype call with Pham planned for in the morning, since he flipped out when he heard about the hit to the head and Randal knows that he’s also thinking about the Pirates game in all of this.

‘We’re almost too perfect for each other.’ Randal thinks as he runs his hand through Stephen’s hair for the nth time that evening. ‘We worry about the same things, while Stephen just moans and groans when he hasn’t been fed.’ Randal’s hand catches on a knot in Stephen’s hair, which makes the older man open his eyes and squint at him.

“Randal, I can hear you thinking in my sleep.” Randal smiles, apologetic as he can manage, before leaning down to kiss his partner back to sleep. Which fails as Stephen falls back against the pillows and drags Randal with him, putting them in a position that they've found themselves in time and time again.

“Stephen, should we even be doing this with your concussion?” Randal asks, worried as Stephen groans and drags him down into a kiss that goes filthy the moment their lips touch. Stephen pulls away though almost as quickly as it starts, wearing a smirk that shows that he’s up to no good.

“Randal, it’s a minor concussion, barely one at all. And honestly, if fucking me until I’m a boneless mess helps you get a little bit of sleep, then who am I to complain?” Randal growls at that, at the image that Stephen paints for him, one where Stephen is beneath him, begging Randal to fuck him. It’s something he’s seen a dozen times before, but it never fails to get his dick on-board with the program.

“You’re a goddamn menace to society, do you know that?” Stephen just laughs as Randal shoves him harder into the pillows, fighting to get their pants off so they can get to the fun part of the evening. “What the word babe?”

“Cubs.” Stephen says, his voice nothing more than a gasp as his dick pops out of his pyjama pants into the cool air of their bedroom. “Now fuck me dammit.”

“Now, now, that isn’t how good boys ask for what they want.” Stephen whines and squirms under Randal, who is taking his sweet time in taking of his own pyjama pants and just letting the fabric brush up against Stephen’s cock ever so slightly when he moves.

“Randal, please.” His voice is high-pitched, near a whine and Randal just chuckles darkly at him.

“Please what babe?” Randal dips his head to bite at the stop right below Stephen’s ear, which he gets another whine for. “Please fuck me until I can’t walk? Is that what you were trying to ask for?” Stephen throws his head back, which reveals the rest of his neck and Randal has never been one to say no to such a feast.

He’s on his fourth bite mark on Stephen’s neck before the man under him finally chokes out what he wants.

“Randal, fuck, I want your cock.” Randal grins and takes another bite out on Stephen’s neck before pulling away and surveying his work.

“Now, was that so hard to ask for?” Stephen groans, which earns him a gentle swat to the side in reprimand. “Answer me babe.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Randal simply smiles and hooks his thumb into the waistband of his pants, looking into Stephen’s eyes as he tugs on it.

“So, green?” Stephen nods and smiles back.

“Green.”

The pants drop.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me @ smolcullens and whine at me about baseball and hockey and dragon age


End file.
